


Flame in the Dark

by JoansDiary



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:29:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7653844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansDiary/pseuds/JoansDiary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little something for your freakytits hearts</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Saint](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Saint/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy, sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors. 
> 
> I want to thank Sick_lil_Saint for inspiring me to write this, pulling me out of a writing rut and giving me the idea, helping me plan and map and "list" :). Thank you for your notes and for your help. You stayed up late with me ,reread it probably more that I did and never lost patience. This one's for you.

**Flame in the Dark**

 

“She really is a _freak_!”

Anderson’s words kept replaying over and over in her head, like the words of a horribly repetitive song.

Joan swung her black leisure car into her driveway finally. The closer she had sped toward her home, the more her shame and embarrassment bubbled; like a massive weight that had been placed upon her chest and stomach, suffocating her.

“She really is a _freak_!”

She felt her throat constrict and the muscles tighten almost painfully as she threw her car into park. Hot tears burned the back of her eyes and she felt her lower lip quiver involuntarily. This angered her.

_Stop it stop it stop it_

_You’re nothing_

_No stop I’m_ …, she attempted in vain to silence the voices.

_You’re a disgusting freak_

Her normal organized, methodical thought process had been interrupted by harsh, taunting whispers. Her thoughts swirled and raged against each other, Joan was powerless to stop it at the moment.

She struck the side of her head with her open hand, twice. Anger had suddenly seized her like a vice and had eclipsed all of her other…feelings…as she stormed up her walkway. Jamming her key into the lock, she felt as if she were racing at this point, desperate to get inside. The lock clicked mercifully, and Joan yanked open the heavy door, stepped into her domicile and slammed it behind her, throwing her bag and keys in the general direction of where they belonged before pounding her fist against the wall.

_I’m a freak_

Her slippers sat waiting neatly in their assigned place by the door, but she kicked them aside angrily and tore her jacket off. She buried a hand in her hair and grasped at the pins and bands that confined it into the meticulous bun she wore with pride. Her eyes caught sight of her goldfish swimming in chaotic circles in its bowl, threatened by the abrupt change in the lighting and sound surrounding his habitat.

_You want out too?_

_Even you can’t stand to be around me_

Before she knew what she was doing she found her hands grasping the cool glass of the bowl. Lifting it eye level, she stared through the bowl at the fluttering fish inside. It darted to the opposite side of the bowl in fear. Joan felt an instant snap of rejection that caused her breaths to come out in short gasps as she hurled the fishbowl to the floor.

Rejection. Her mind was stung again by Anderson’s words.

_I thought she was going to kiss me at one point!_

_Totally weird and creepy_

The glass exploded on impact, the water flooded at her feet. She watched, in a brief daze of sorts, as the goldfish bounced across the floor before landing on a small mound of broken glass. It laid there, taking in deep gulps of air and twitching its tail futilely. Suddenly, Joan’s vision grew incredibly blurry and she realized as she glanced miserably around her kitchen, that her eyes were filled with hot tears.

Immaculacy. Cleanliness. Order. All very important to Joan. This was reflected in the décor of her home, if you could call it a home. Besides the shattered fish bowl scattered all over the kitchen floor and the quickly-expiring fish, the house looked like a show-home to her suddenly; a carefully arranged façade of control and contentment.

_Look at you._

Joan blinked.

_I tried to warn you, this is what happens when you let your emotions take over!_

She heard her father’s strong, commanding voice take over in her mind, suddenly silencing the whispers and taunts she had heard previously.

_You’re pointless._

_Dad please, no,_ Joan struggled against the urge to beg, knowing it would disgust him and make things worse for her.

_You’re worthless._

Joan’s eyes scanned the kitchen. A place for everything and everything in its place. A neat, orderly environment keeps a neat, orderly mind. These were the lessons that had been ground into the core of Joan’s very being.

Spying the closest thing in her reach, she shot an arm out and flipped a cutting board that had been sitting on her counter. The drinking glasses that were neatly arranged on top hit the ground and shattered.

_That’s enough, Joan!_

She shook her head slightly, feeling uncharacteristic rebellion towards her father’s voice, and tore open a drawer filled with cutlery, all carefully placed in their individual slots.

_Get a hold of yourself. Emotions lead to mistakes, Joan. Irreparable mistakes._

Ignoring the thundering echoes of her father, she flung her hand around in the drawer madly; silverware crashed around and landed wherever it could in its confines.

_I’ll never be good enough_ , she thought to herself.

 An anguished cry ripped from her throat as she turned her attention to the glass bottles of liquor on a table beside her. She systematically dispatched them to the floor, tossing each one as if they belonged there.

_Pathetic,_ her father sneered.

She was letting yet another glass bowl hit the floor when she heard a different voice.

“Joan!”

This one was soft, but demanding. She heard shoes crunching broken glass.

“Joan…” the voice was closer and even softer in tone now.

She felt hands on her shoulders, turning, pulling at her. Joan willed herself to open her eyes.

Vera?

Joan’s eyes widened for half a second as she appraised her deputy; standing in her kitchen , in her home, in her mess. Joan felt a quick burst of shame and tried to pull away from the grip Vera had on her upper arms but Vera held fast.

“Nononono…” Joan whimpered incoherently, shaking her head back and forth, her black and silver-streaked hair catching the tears that finally began to spill from Joan’s dark eyes.

_She can’t be here, she can not see you like this…_ she heard her father warn her.

Strands of hair stuck to her wet face and she felt her knees finally give up. Joan slid down Vera’s frame, collapsing in the glass beneath her. Off balance and trying to support Joan’s larger frame, Vera staggered back a little, miraculously caught herself and quickly crouched down with Joan before she fell in the glass herself.

Joan’s head fell against Vera’s chest. A deep sob wracked her body and she cried out into the lapel of Vera’s work jacket.

“Shhh…” Vera shushed her softly, wrapping her arms around her boss; her mentor. She had witnessed the governor do some questionable things, but never yet had Vera lost faith in her.

“It’s ok, Joan.” She began to stroke Joan’s hair rhythmically, lowering her face gently to the top of Joan’s head and breathing her in; her soft, clean scent closer to Vera than ever before.

“I’m a freak I’m a freak I’m a freak I’m a freak…” she cried repetitively, the self-deprecation poured from Joan like a mantra. She began hitting her head against Vera’s chest.

“No, no. You’re not. You’re not a freak, Joan.” Vera soothed.

_She can’t be here_. Her father repeated.

_She’s seen too much, she saw you lose control. You cannot trust her._

 Vera placed her hand on Joan’s back and rubbed small circles but Joan froze suddenly and sat up.

Her eyes met Vera’s.

“No, you ca-…what are you doing here? You can’t be here.” Joan shook her head dismissively. She weakly tried to pull away from Vera’s make-shift embrace.

_She’ll use everything she’s seen against you, Joan._

“You were upset, I called to you in the parking lot at work but you didn’t hear me. I was worried. So I followed.” Vera stated, matter of factly. She didn’t let go of Joan completely but loosened her grip, resting her hands on Joan’s carefully.

Such a conflict of emotion ran through Joan’s over-worked mind. A very human part of her instinctually yearned for comfort right now; the warmth of Vera’s arms, the calm, confident way she was speaking to her. It almost felt intoxicating. But she couldn’t completely abandon the fear that Vera would look at her suddenly, shake her head in disgust and say, ”You really are a freak” and run out, eager to tell their colleagues what she had witnessed.

Joan’s eyes searched Vera’s face for fear, disgust, anger for how Joan had treated her in the infirmary only hours ago.

Vera’s eyes burned into Joan’s though, and her voice was still steady, hypnotic.

“I’m glad I did, otherwise you may not have had any glass left in your house to use for its intent or purpose.” A small, careful smile pulled the side of Vera’s mouth and she leaned in and pressed her lips against Joan’s forehead tenderly. Joan took a sharp breath in; the feel of Vera or anyone for that matter being this close to her while she was this vulnerable was overwhelming. She almost felt shock as she felt a heat spread across her forehead. It almost felt like a gentle electric current was flowing from Vera’s lips and into her aching head.

_I’m disappointed in you Joan._

Joan snapped her head away from the warmth. No.

She couldn’t make this mistake twice, especially not in one day. Confusion swept over Joan, a feeling that Joan hated more than almost all others. Vera gripped Joan’s upper arms again, trying to draw her nearer.

“It’s ok.” Joan heard Vera murmur.

Joan’s knees ached from the glass and her head pounded from all of the emotion and conflict.

_Joan. Be wary_. Her father was still there, but his voice seemed further away, less imposing.

Joan looked up at Vera finally. Vera stared back at her and waited for Joan to tell her to leave, hoping that she wouldn’t. Knowing she was too close in physical proximity for the governors comfort level but not moving yet. And then surprisingly, Joan leaned back into Vera. The need to be closer to her suddenly swept everything else away. Vera was a flame in the dark and Joan was a moth.

_Don’t._ She heard in her mind.

Joan didn’t listen. Before she could stop herself, she felt her lips meet Vera’s gently and she internally flinched, waiting for Vera to pull away in shock or disgust, as Anderson had done, as others had done.

But Vera didn’t. In fact, she parted her lips and met the kiss, and Joan felt an encompassing wave of gratitude and relief crash over her. Tears spilled over Joan’s cheeks and she inhaled sharply against Vera’s mouth.

Vera brought her hand up to Joan’s face, her fingertips softly grazing Joan’s cheek, gently wiping at her tears as the kiss momentarily deepened. Vera’s hand moved into Joan’s hair, and she gently moved strands out of the woman’s face, tucking a lock behind Joan’s ear.

They pulled away for a second, each slightly open-mouthed, eyes scanning each other’s faces for approval, or disapproval. A sharp pain suddenly ripped Joan’s attention from Vera and down to her knee. The glass. There was glass everywhere and Joan became anxious at the thought of her home being in such disarray.

_What have I done? What am I doing?_ She thought frantically.

_You lost control, Joan_. Was the cold, distant answer she got in return. Her breathing quickened and her vision narrowed. She could hear nothing but the blood pumping in her head.

“Joan.” Vera was pulling at Joan again, and when Joan snapped out of her thoughts and looked back at Vera, she saw Vera’s brow was knitted with concern as she appraised her fallen mentor. “Where did you go?” Vera asked softly.

“The glass…such a mess, I- I’m-”Joan trailed off, shaking her head slowly at the chaos around them. She looked into Vera’s eyes, felt them sweeping over her features. Vera shook her head slightly and cupped Joan’s face in her hands.

“Yep, you’re going to be just fine. I promise…” She smiled wryly.

Relief welled up inside of Joan, she had needed to hear that above all else. She was tired of fighting. She wanted to feel something.

She leaned back in, the fear of repudiation making her hesitant at first- but she took Vera’s lips with hers again. Vera moaned softly against her mouth and scooted her body closer to Joan, a subtle indication that the younger woman, inexperienced as she was, wanted more. It was Joan that wrapped her arms around Vera this time, taking control of the embrace, pulling Vera onto her lap. She gripped Vera’s side as they kissed, tongues exploring slightly. Joan felt a familiar hallowness in the bottom of her stomach and she trailed a hand up Vera’s back, over her neck and into her hair, rubbing slowly, pulling a little ,trying to release the strands from the confines of the bun Vera had worn to work. Vera smiled against Joan’s lips and reached her own hands up into her hair, her fingers grazing Joan’s. She released her hair and it tumbled over her slight shoulders. Joan’s senses were instantly flooded with the sweet scent of Vera’s loose hair and she gripped a handful close to the scalp firmly but gently and squeezed slightly. Vera took in a sharp breath.

The soft sounds of approval Vera intermittently let out were delicious music to Joan, and she felt her body rapidly responding to her deputy. Her heart thudding in her chest, their kiss deepened and their hands began to explore each others bodies. She unbuttoned Vera’s work jacket and Vera shrugged it off. Joan’s hands found Vera’s breasts and she ran them over the thin material of her white shirt, raking her fingernails gently over Vera’s nipples which were hardening underneath. This autonomic response delighted Joan and she groaned faintly at the unmistakable feel of the hot, sticky wetness that was forming in the space between her thighs. Years of suppression of a very basic human need was quickly overcoming Joan, and she closed her eyes against the light-headedness that had taken hold of her and forced herself to breathe.

**

Their clothing was now strewn across the carnage of the broken fishbowl, the liquor bottles, drinking glasses and bowls, the errant spoon, the dead goldfish. Their hasty coupling and desperate need for each others touch had prevented them from leaving the kitchen, and now the two women sat entwined, face to face. Vera’s head was buried in Joan’s neck and she gripped a shoulder while Joan continued rubbing Vera’s hardening clitoris in quickening circles. Vera gasped and felt herself grinding almost involuntarily into Joan’s hand, willing the governor’s fingers to plunge into her aching depths. Vera shifted upward slightly and Joan’s fingers moved easily through the slickness emanating from Vera’s core.

“Mmmm…” Vera moaned as she felt Joan’s fingers slide inside of her.

Joan felt her own sex throb as she explored Vera’s most sensitive region. She could smell Vera’s want and the scent made the knot in her lower belly tighten as her long, skilled fingers probed Vera. Joan moaned as Vera opened herself to Joan; her head tilted back slightly, eyes closed, bottom lip between her teeth. She gasped as Joan’s fingers returned to her aching clit and the welcomed pressure against the small, sensitive bundle of nerves. “Mmmm yes…”

“Right there, isn’t it Vera?” Joan’s voice was thick with lust and she continued her ministrations, quickening her pace as she felt Vera’s hips moving faster, her small body tensed as it prepared for the imminent release. Joan was close herself; seeing Vera in this state, body begging for relief that only Joan could give her.

 “Ohh  God, Joan mm--“ Vera moaned, the words caught in her throat and a small , strangled noise emerged instead as Vera orgasmed against Joan’s hand, her breath realeased in soft, quick shudders, hot against Joan’s neck.

The thought of the control she was exhibiting over Vera’s body caused such a response in her own body that before she realized it was happening, Joan’s own breath quickened and she felt everything inside of her tense for a second, then burst in such a powerful wave of pleasure that she saw stars momentarily behind her tightly closed eyes before everything turned white. She gasped and grabbed for Vera’s hips, needing to hold onto something, but her hands closed around nothing.

“Joan.” She heard distantly.

Initially she feared the voice must belong to her father, lurking, waiting to ruin this tremendous, sublime moment; something she so seldom allowed herself to experience.

 “I’m here, Joan,” she heard , and realized the voice actually belonged to Vera, but suddenly she sounded far away, and her warmth had faded. Joan felt a weightless sensation, as if she were floating away, and she felt her head moving back and forth and her mouth working to answer  Vera. _I’m here!_ She wanted frantically to call back to her.

But nothing came out.

She was acutely aware that something was gripping her wrists roughly and the sensation caused her to momentarily panic and she weakly struggled to free her arms.

“Why is she restrained?” she heard Vera ask. Her voice was closer and Joan slowly turned her head to the source of the sound.

_Restrained?!_

 Joan’s eyes snapped open and she squinted against sudden brightness. She realized almost instantly that she was laying in a bed. _How?_  But she couldn’t answer herself. Thinking was impossible, her thoughts were uncoordinated and disbanded. She fought to center her vision, eyes sweeping around until they landed on a small figure standing beside her. As her eyes found some semblance of focus, she saw her deputy standing beside her bed in the bright white room.

Joan’s eyes locked onto Vera’s and she tried with all her remaining strength to keep her sights steady on her.

Vera felt the hairs on her arm stand up as she kept Joan’s haunting gaze, and she knelt over her, taking her hand.

“You’re going to be just fine, I promise.” She whispered into Joan’s ear.

 Joan closed her eyes again heavily.

 

                                                                                                                                    


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who read, commented and left kudos. 
> 
> And as always, I'd like to express my gratitude to sick_lil_saint, my creative consultant, for her selflessness in sharing her ideas. She's got a million and a half of em rolling around in her head and shes nice enough to lend me one now and again :) thanks.

**Chapter 2**

 

_“Assistance is req-” Joan’s voice cracked and she coughed and sputtered as she choked on another lung-full of thick smoke. She gasped and looked down at the bundle she had been carrying as she leaned against the unforgiving bars that separated her escape from the fire that was hungrily devouring everything behind her. The baby she had forgotten she was holding had suddenly gone very quiet and very still in her arms._

_“Shane..” Joan whimpered , gathering him closer to her breast.  “ I’m so sorry…I failed you again..” she cried as she slid her back down the bars, cradling Jianna’s son to her chest. She sobbed as the flames licked closer and closer to them…_

_\-----_

“No…”

Vera’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Joan’s low moan. It had been barely audible but Vera had startled just the same ; it had been so quiet in the tiny white room of the psychiatric ward that Vera realized she had dozed briefly while Joan had nodded off again in a drug-induced slumber. Before Joan had lost the battle and sleep had claimed her, she had recognized Vera through her haze. After Vera had promised Joan that everything would be fine, she had watched with a sense of fascination as her words had seemed to relax Joan, and as she slipped into her doze, she had murmured  “Vera…” and Vera had felt her chest tighten and tears prick the corners of her eyes. And she couldn’t explain why.

Vera sat up in the stiff waiting chair and appraised Joan now- her former boss was tossing lightly in a fitful sleep, obviously in the throes of a nightmare. Sweat glistened on her body and the white hospital-issue gown clung to her damp skin. Her gnarled black hair matted against her cheeks. Her brow was furrowed and a pained expression painted over her pale face.  She moved her head back and forth on the pillow slowly, moaning.  Occasionally an arm would jerk against the restraints binding her wrists.

 “Help… me” Vera heard Joan say as she watched one hand open and close, as if trying to grasp something.

Vera suddenly felt a bolt of compassion surge through her, causing a lump to rise in her throat.  A very human need to ease another’s suffering drove Vera to stand automatically and stoop next to Joan’s bed, sliding her fingers into Joan’s damp hand when it opened again. She felt Joan weakly grip her fingers in response. 

“Please…I have to…Shane…” Joan’s breathing had quickened and she seemed to struggle with renewed strength; Vera even noticed her eyes flutter open momentarily.

_Shane?_ Vera briefly considered the name Joan had said. She hadn’t heard it before.

“Shh…its ok Joan. Settle, lay back.” Vera placed a hand to Joan’s forehead, gently coaxing her head back down to the pillow.

“No..the fire is..I ca-“  but words failed her again, and her eyelids closed lazily, her mouth opened slightly and Vera realized that Joan had drifted away again, as quickly as she had come. 

\-----

_“joan.”_

_She heard her name whispered in the darkness, it was so faint, and it crept upon her like a soft breeze gently moving through tall grass.  It was so soothing, so tender the way it sounded to her. She even felt the corner of her mouth twitch, as if it were trying to pull itself into a half-smile._

_“Joan.”_

_The softness was gone this time, Joan felt her brow furrow in response and her stomach knotted._

_“WAKE UP!”_

_Her eyes snapped open and she quickly surveyed her surroundings. With alarm, she realized she was bound to a chair in the middle of her fencing studio._

_How? She thought to herself, her muddled brain trying to reason, as she struggled in vain to free her wrists from the ropes that held them fast to the arms of the chair._

_“How? That’s your first question?” a voice scoffed at her. Startled, Joan turned her head and cast her gaze into the shadows in the corner of the room. She knew that voice._

_A slight figure stepped out of the dark and into the dim, hazy yellow light of the studio._

_“Feels sort of redundant to tell you ‘how’ this is happening, when you already know how, Joan.”_

_Joan knew who the person in the room with her was in an instant. How could she not?_

_Her face cracked into a lopsided smile and she felt her eyes fill with tears._

_“Jianna.” She breathed.”I’ve- I’ve missed you so-“_

_“Stop. Just- don’t. Everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie.” Jianna snapped, walking closer to where Joan sat on the chair. Joan immediately felt the elation of seeing her former lover dissipate, replaced by an eerie, sickening feeling of despair. Jianna’s deep brown eyes, which once had a spark; a pleasant glint to them, were pale;  narrowed and accusing as they burned into Joans.  Where she once had found solace and comfort, Joan saw nothing but hatred and disgust glaring back at her now._

_“That’s not true Jiann-“ she began weakly, her mouth was so dry she could barely speak._

_“I SAID STOP!” Jianna yelled so loudly and so suddenly that Joan jumped a little. Joan could do nothing but stare at the approaching woman dumbly. Joan blinked and Jianna was instantaneously almost face-to-face with her, as if someone had pressed a fast-forward button on this terrible encounter._

_“You wanna know how this happened?” Jianna seethed, “Because of YOU, Joan! You lost control! You let your emotions interfere again, and now here you sit, with so much blood on your hands that all the washing in the world will never see them clean again! You care for no one but your sick, disgusting self. You are NOTHING. An embarrassment.” Jianna hissed into her ear, the words trickling into Joan and filling her with shame and fear. Her pulse quickened and she heard her heart pounding in her ears._

_“I cared…so much about you and Shane, I-“_

_“YOU NEVER CARED!” Jianna roared, grabbing the sides of Joan’s face with both of her hands. Joan squeezed her eyes shut and willed this to end, this couldn’t be real, Jianna would never speak to her like that._

_“No. Open your eyes. OPEN THEM! Look at what you did!” Jianna cried, and Joan reluctantly opened her eyes again. Jianna had turned her head upwards, exposing her neck. A thick, deep purple and red stripe snaked across her throat from one side to the other, its colors angry and stark against Jianna’s skin. Joan gasped and started to sob. Her beautiful Jianna. The ligature marks stared back at Joan, taunting her, a blatant depiction of her failure._

_Tears streaming down her face, she shook her head back and forth vehemently._

_“Yes.” Jianna said plainly.”Yes, Joan.”_

_“You failed me..” Jianna’s voice had grown soft,defeated.”They did this to me because of YOU.”_

_Joan looked up at Jianna, her eyes pleading. She wanted to say so much, but her mind wouldn’t fire fast enough. She wanted to reach out and hold Jianna close to her forever, convince her that she did indeed care and had never meant for her to die, but her wrists were duly bound._

_So Joan sat in a stunned silence, her eyes swimming as she cast her gaze downwards, defeated._

_“I lov- I…I..”Joan stuttered, her voice hitching on a quiet sob. She heard a scoff above her._

_“You what? You ‘loved’ me? Is that what you’re trying to say? You loved me?”_

_Once again, she looked up at the woman she had fallen in love with so long ago, this young woman whose life was ripped away from her far too soon._

_“If you loved me, you would have protected me and Shane. You would have been there to make good on your promise to protect us when they came for me, rope in hand.”_

_Jianna leaned down so she was eye-level with Joan._

_“You are nothing,” she smiled vacantly at Joan’s distressed expression, then moved her lips to Joan’s ear, “but a FREAK.”_

_Joan felt her mind flood with thousands of thoughts and tiny whispers and suddenly the room was spinning. She closed her eyes briefly to stop it and when she opened them, Jianna’s back was to her and she was walking slowly back toward the shadows in the corner of the room._

_“No, Jianna! Wait!” Joan was shocked at the hoarseness in her voice, she sounded very old and afraid._

_The figure did not turn, did not stop._

_“Come back!” Joan tried to yell but her voice cracked, and the wail that came from the depths of her being sounded inhuman._

_She screamed and thrashed furiously in the chair, trying to get up to stop Jianna before she disappeared, but it was too late. Jianna had slipped away again into the darkness._

_“Don’t leave me.” Joan whimpered to the empty room._

_\-----_

“Please!”

Joan had been thrashing and crying out again but this particular cry startled Vera and she jumped a little. She noticed Joan’s eyes were open again, and she was staring at the wall in the corner of the room.

“What do you need, Joan?” Vera asked softly, stepping closer to her, wiping away the tears that were spilling down her cheeks with her own hand, gently. She took Joan’s hand again, more-so to get her attention than anything else.

Joan’s eyes lazily met Vera’s and her mouth worked to say something but nothing came out at first. She took a shuddery breath in and wailed “Stop her!” and she gestured weakly at the corner of the room. She was still struggling against her restraints and trying to get up from the bed.

_Stop who?_ Vera looked to where Joan was gazing, even though she knew no one would be there. She looked back at Joan. Maybe she had been dreaming about Warner and the fire again.

The fire. There were still so many questions surrounding the fire that had nearly destroyed a portion of the prison, claiming the life of inmate Jessica Warner. Something had happened down there that night, a mystery thus far, considering that out of the three witnesses to the start of the fire, one was dead, one was alive but an infant, and the other was Joan, who was currently suffering a mental breakdown and heavily sedated. She had not yet been able to make a credible statement, the only thing she had insisted on before the sedatives took her mind over completely, was that Warner had kidnapped Anderson’s baby with the intent to kill him, Joan had found them after the inmate had started the fire and was able to get the baby away from Warner and escape to a hall, while Warner burned to death in the other room.

There were still so many variables, so many missing pieces to this puzzle. Vera didn’t know what to believe at this point.  Everything was a giant mess, literally and figuratively. Inmates were displaced as the prison was being gutted and remodeled. Officers were dislocated and relocated and discombobulated and some didn’t even have a job to go to right now. Scheduling was a nightmare.

And then there was the giant issue that was Joan Ferguson. Vera had been appointed acting Governor, and one of her first duties had been to come to psych admissions and see what information, if any, she could get out of Joan.

She knew as soon as she had arrived and was ushered into Joan’s nearly- empty, white, holding room and saw Joan in her state of disorient, that she would not get any information or statement from the former governor just yet. Tied down to the bed, fighting her inner demons that had emerged seemingly fast to Vera  and without abandon, the once neat, proper, intimidating presence that had been Governor Ferguson was now a disheveled, heavily-sedated, chaotic mess.

_What the hell happened down there?_

But Vera knew that right now, her questions would not be answered. Right now, her former mentor was suffering and she needed to help in any way she could. Joan was sick at the moment, Vera needed her to get well so uncertainties could be resolved, and justices could be doled out. It was Vera’s job as the newly-appointed governor to fix this disorder.

Vera shook her head dismissively at the reminder that very soon, she would have to reveal to Joan that she, Vera, now held Joan’s former title. The very thought of this disclosure and the subsequent reaction caused a wave of panic to grip Vera’s chest. _No. Not now._ She internally scolded her anxiety.

“Joan, you have GOT to settle down.” Vera swallowed heavily, returning her attention to the uncharacteristically helpless woman writhing around in the bed. She placed her hand on Joan’s forehead again, feeling how hot and sticky it was to the touch. Vera stood and detatched her hand from Joan’s. She walked over to a tiny sink that sat in the corner of the room. Grabbing a cloth, she wet it with cool water and rang it out.

She walked back over to Joan, folding the damp cloth.

“There, that’s bound to feel a little better…” Vera whispered to Joan, gently rubbing the cool cloth over her face and across her forehead, trying to coax her to calm back down.  Joan raised her eyebrows slightly as the rag traced her face gently, and seemed to relax a bit. Her clenched jaw unset and the pained look on her face slightly disappeared as Vera continued to run the damp cloth over her brow, up to her hairline and even over her neck and the top of her chest that lay uncovered by the thin white gown that had been shifted during Joan’s struggles.

“It’s ok.” Vera whispered, even though it wasn’t.

Vera felt the tightness return to her chest as she realized that this was the reason she still stood vigil at Joan’s bedside, even knowing that she wouldn’t be granted a morsel of knowledge relevant to the fire.

There was a sense of duty she still held for her former mentor, and it surpassed the understanding that Joan had not always treated Vera with the same regard. She had even been downright cruel to Vera. Yet here Vera stood, just as she had when Fletcher had been in his accident. Although things had soured between her and Fletch prior, she had still been compelled to help him, care for him even.

“Vera you’re here… are you really here?” Joan murmured, and Vera heard the pained doubt in her fragile voice.

Vera blinked and looked at Joan, whom was now actually looking directly at Vera, recognition and confusion both was glimmering simultaneously in her deep brown eyes.

_The medication must be wearing off,_ thought Vera as she leaned closer to Joan, taking her hand.

“Yes. I’m here.” She smiled softly; reassuringly, down at Joan.  “And I’m going to help you. I’m going to find you the best doctor I can and we’re going to fix this.”

She felt Joan grip her hand.

Suddenly, Vera heard a sharp knock on the open door behind her and she turned to see an orderly standing in the doorway.

“Hey, sorry to disturb, but visiting hours are over.”  The stocky man said blandly.

“Alright.” Vera nodded curtly as he walked away, once again returning her attention to Joan.

“I’ve got to go now.” Vera whispered to her, squeezing her hand. She felt Joan tighten her grip on her at her words.

“No.. please.” Joan whimpered hoarsely. The pained expression washed back over her face and imploring eyes slowly rolled to meet Vera’s.

“It’s ok.” Vera soothed, trying to sound confident as she finally wriggled her hand free from Joan’s. She moved a wayward stand of hair out of Joan’s eyes and smoothed it gently for a moment before starting for the doorway , wanting to leave quickly, counting on the remaining effects of the sedatives to curb Joan’s lamenting.

“Don’t leave…” Vera heard Joan almost whisper behind her.

She had barely heard it, but Vera stopped, still facing the door. Something in Joan’s voice had stalled her descent.

“They always leave.”

At this, Vera turned back around to face Joan, perplexed. “Who?” she asked.

“Everyone.” Joan moaned, her head slowly moving back and forth against the pillow again in agony, her hand still open, wanting Vera’s.

“They always leave me.”

Vera felt as if all the air had suddenly been knocked out of her. She was suddenly overcome by such a feeling of sorrow for the woman lying in the bed. Before she realized it, she was already walking back over to her, as if drawn in by some magnetic force.

 

She took Joan’s hand once more.


End file.
